Entwined (2/2)
Mino’s dreams are a tangle of sinuous limbs and music. The music is distinct, notes that dance on the softness of the piano, curve at the thrum of the bass. At some point there’s the elegance of a violin and the strength of a cello weaving into an entire string orchestra as Mino presses his lips on the man’s skin - exploring every inch until he feels the softness of lips, and the music fades into the faint drumming of bongos that resemble quickened heartbeats.
Dana hadn’t kept her promise, Mino finds out, when he opens the door of his apartment to his mother the morning after, worry etched in the lines of her forehead and sympathy in her tired eyes. She promptly cancels all his appointments and drags him to their seer, an intimidating old woman he remembers from snippets of his childhood. Mino voices a last minute protest, half-hearted. He recognizes the traces of fear in his apprehension. Why and where it stems from, he isn’t sure.
They enter a small room where trinkets and amulets line the walls, the scent of burnt incense in the stale air. The woman takes Mino’s outstretched hand and draws circles in his palm, the movement hypnotic and otherworldly. Mino feels the energy in the room shift, converge in the spot where two lines meet. The recurring dreams flash in his head and he shuts his eyes on instinct, lost in the sensations that fill him to the brim.
He doesn’t know how long it lasts but when he opens his eyes, the old woman is staring at him shrewdly, as though she knows more than she’s willing to say.
“Your sight is weak,” she tells him, sounding every bit an accusation as she runs the tip of the brush over the yellow fabric, the red ink seeping underneath. She pushes it towards him after offering a silent chant. “This will help you find what you are looking for. Carry it with you at all times.”
Mino draws the lines of the talisman with his eyes. He doesn’t know why he isn’t more excited, even when his heart is beating as fast as it can.
* * *
He gives the talisman one long, hard look before he tucks it in between two books in the second drawer of his cabinet. He doesn’t take it out again.
* * *
“Fate?”
The word falls from Seungyoon’s mouth without a trace of mockery or laughter, eyes narrowed as his slim fingers drum against his cheek in consideration. Conversations have flowed more effortlessly between them after Mino put his walls down bit by bit, revealing more things about himself than he ever thought he would to someone who, up until three weeks ago, was only someone who made him coffee.
“Well?” He’s more anxious than he wants to be, than he appears.
“It’s a beautiful concept,” Seungyoon says finally. “The thought that everything is predetermined and you are where you are meant to be at this very moment because there’s an invisible hand that led you to this point - very romantic. Sounds right up my alley,” he hums, candid. “But to be honest, I’m more of a ‘we-choose-our-destiny’ kind of guy.”
“But what if we don’t?” Mino chimes, carefully studying him for any signs that Seungyoon thinks he’s crazy. It’s not a conversation he’s had with people other than his family especially for that reason. “What if we are afforded choices, like, whether to get coffee in the morning, which tie to wear, but some aspects of our lives, bigger, more significant aspects, are predestined?”
“Like what?” Seungyoon raises a brow, but Mino can tell Seungyoon knows what he’s getting at. He confirms it when he says, “Like who we end up with?”
Mino breathes out and leans back in to his chair just a little more, giving Seungyoon a nod. “Yeah.”
“Why are you asking me?”
“Just,” he shrugs, hopes he doesn’t give too much away. “Something that crossed my mind.”
Seungyoon lets out something between a scoff and a laugh. “Whether to get coffee in the morning, which tie to wear, those are things that crosses someone’s mind. You speak of this as if it’s something you’ve thought about for a long time.”
“Are you going to give me an answer if I say it’s true?”
“I’m going to give you an answer either way, Mino,” Seungyoon smiles, and it eases just a little tension in Mino’s stomach. But he still fidgets with his hands and taps his foot.
“I believe it’s possible to love someone long enough to last a lifetime. If you’re asking me if I believe that some people are meant to be, then yes. Do I think it’s fate’s handiwork? Not so much.”
“So you don’t believe in soulmates?”
“You want to talk about soulmates?” Seungyoon gives Mino a baffled, equally amused look. “I didn’t peg you for the type.”
Before Mino could reply, Jongup comes up to them and hands Seungyoon an order slip that has Seungyoon excusing himself, back to the bar. Mino takes that time to ponder Seungyoon’s answers, his heart beating a mile a minute while watching Seungyoon from meters away. Why he’s telling the man all these things, Mino isn’t quite sure.
But the urge to finally divulge a secret he didn’t give too much thought before but now weighs heavily on his shoulders, hits only when he’s with Seungyoon.
What’s the worst that could happen? He’ll think Mino is a nutcase.
But Mino would like to believe the man is better than that. In fact, he hopes, for some reason, Seungyoon is better than that.
When Seungyoon saunters back, he doesn’t sit down, glances at his watch, and turns to Mino ruefully. “Sorry about that. You have to leave in five minutes, right?”
Mino could just say yes, go and get to work, forget about saying anything - but he stays rooted in his seat, staring up at Seungyoon who stares back with interest.
“Soulmates are real,” Mino blurts out all too abruptly, with a conviction in his voice that takes Seungyoon by surprise. “I know this, because I’ve met mine.”
Seungyoon looks absolutely perplexed, even when he forces a snicker out of his mouth. “Is this a pick up line?”
“I’m serious. Our family is… we’re a little different.”
Seungyoon tilts his head, and slides down his seat again. “Different, how?”
The next half hour is comprised of Mino’s nervous sputters as he tells Seungyoon the beginning to every bedtime story he grew up with, the family lore, the secret. And not once did Seungyoon say a word, letting Mino talk on with nothing but nods to signify that he’s still listening.
He tells him of the touch, the one that hasn’t left his skin, the reason why he always has that look, like Seungyoon observed. Then he describes the dreams, more vivid every day, and the talisman. How he should be carrying it with him, but he isn’t. Even when he knows it will bring him closer to his soulmate. And yet.
“You,” Mino exhales aloud, exhausted as if he’d run a marathon. The latte art on his cup that was once a pair of shoes is now an indistinguishable blob. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
Seungyoon doesn’t answer right away; he runs fingers over his lips and looks down at his coffee, as though searching for the right words to say. When he looks up at Mino after a long stretch of silence, his expression is one that Mino has come to associate with him. Sincere.
“No. I think you’re fascinating.”
That’s it? Mino frowns, unsure of what he means. And he hates how everything as of late, especially when it comes to Seungyoon, is unsure.
“I’ve heard some very interesting stories in my travels, but this one,” Seungyoon smiles. “This one is the best.”
Mino deflates. “You don’t believe me.”
“That’s the thing. You could be shitting me right now but I believe every word of it.”
“I’m not shitting you.”
“I know.” Seungyoon reaches for his cup and Mino waits for him to laugh or walk out, but he doesn’t. Instead, Mino tries to read into Seungyoon’s sighs in between his sips, tries to understand why Seungyoon isn’t saying anything more.
The silence between them ends when Mino’s phone rings, and it’s a frustrated Seunghoon on the other end. Mino is almost an hour late to work and it’s getting ridiculous, Seunghoon screams in his ear.
“I have to go,” Mino says begrudgingly, putting his phone away, body heavy as he rises from his seat. With each day that passes, he spends just a little more time at the café but still thinks it’s not enough.
“Mino,” Seungyoon calls out before he could put on his coat. “I’m closing the café on Sunday for an exclusive latte art class. Are you interested?”
Mino gives him a hesitant smile as he picks up the rest of his things from the table. “I’ll be here.”
* * *
Mino peers through the glass door and finds the place locked and empty. Maybe before he told Seungyoon his deepest, darkest secret, he really should have gotten Seungyoon’s number first. He stands and waits by the entrance for about fifteen minutes, shriveling in his coat, when he hears the soft knock on the door. He turns around to a beaming Seungyoon, dressed in a burgundy sweater instead of his standard white button down. Mino thinks he looks even better with a pop of color.
“Sorry,” he pipes, stepping aside to let Mino in. “I was getting things ready in the kitchen.”
Mino uncoils his scarf, scanning the empty cafe. Seungyoon had told him to come at nine thirty, and it’s almost ten o’clock. “Am I the first one here?”
“Uhh, yeah. I mean, you’re the only one who should be here.”
“What?”
“Didn’t I mention this was a very exclusive class?” Seungyoon smirks. “Oops.”
Seungyoon doesn’t wait for Mino to respond and he’s walking away, leaving Mino to trail behind, shaking his head at having been conned, but really, hiding a smile.
Mino plops himself on a stool across from Seungyoon who’s behind the bar, rolling his sleeves while looking over everything he’s got on the wooden surface. Mino preoccupies himself with watching the other man’s every move with rapt attention, even when the “class” hasn’t technically started.
“I’m going to teach you the most basic one first,” Seungyoon says after a while, spreading his arms and gripping the edges of the bar as he leans forward just a little. Mino is only slightly startled as Seungyoon looks up, and he discovers how much more intimate the setting feels than he initially thought, definitely something he didn’t prepare for when he was getting ready this morning.
“Okay,” Mino sounds uneasy, and he hopes Seungyoon hadn’t noticed.
“The Rosetta leaf,” Seungyoon changes his tone to something more professor like and it elicits a laugh out of Mino. Seungyoon hisses at this, like only a strict professor would, and Mino makes a show out of zipping his mouth and throwing away the invisible key.
Mino would be lying if he says that every word to come out of Seungyoon’s mouth is registering in his brain when he’s enthralled by Seungyoon’s lithe movement, the fluidity of his fingers as he grips the cup, pours the frothy milk with control and refinement. Mino’s eyes flit from his slightly pink hands to his laser focused eyes, his fringe nearly obstructing his view when he dips his head. And then to his mouth as it moves, saying things that Mino doesn’t completely hear. Saying his name.
“Mino.”
He stiffens for a second, guilty, when Seungyoon tilts his head in exasperation. “Are you even listening to me?”
“I’m… paying attention.” Not quite a lie.
Seungyoon sighs and pushes a fresh new cup towards him. “Then show me what I just did.”
It’s only then that Mino notices the cup Seungyoon had just set down, a perfect Rosetta leaf perched on top. Mino squares his shoulders and tries to recall how Seungyoon had done it, but all he remembers are fingers and slight jiggles, and sharp eyes, and lips.
“Fine, let me do it again,” Seungyoon relents when he notices the distress in Mino’s face, reaching for the cup. Their fingers almost graze, but they don’t - something Mino doesn’t even notice until Seungyoon withdraws his hand sharply he nudges the cup and some of the coffee spill out.
“Shit,” Seungyoon gasps, turning around in one quick move to retrieve a towel to wipe the surface clean.
“Are you okay?” Mino suddenly feels like standing from his stool and rounding the bar to help Seungyoon but something tells him to stay put.
“Yeah,” Seungyoon replies, distracted, before putting away the towel and facing Mino with a deep breath. “Yeah, of course,” he says again, firmer, putting on the smile again that wavered earlier. “Where were we?”
It takes a full hour before Mino creates anything decent - some kind of flower - but that wasn’t really the point, was it? Not when Mino can’t recall laughing as much as he did in that same hour, taking pleasure in how exasperated Seungyoon could get, how bossy he is, and how Seungyoon pretends to be angry but can’t stop himself from giggling at every little clumsy move Mino makes.
“You’re an architect and you can’t even do this?” Seungyoon’s voice fills the café in faux anger, all hidden enjoyment.
“I didn’t study in Italy so…”
“My ten year old cousin did this last week!”
The banters die down, they end up drinking all the coffee instead, declaring the class a total failure with Seungyoon claiming that Mino is the worst student he’s ever come across - but that’s okay because at least he can make buildings instead of coffee and yeah okay he wins.
“How about lunch instead?” Seungyoon suggests, already getting up from his seat.
In the same way Mino watched Seungyoon make coffee, he just stood back in awe of Seungyoon’s cooking skills, the younger man claiming it would be a shame if he lived alone in Italy with nothing to show for it in the kitchen. Mino was relegated to setting up the table, Seungyoon refusing any sort of help in case Mino accidentally burns down his Mom’s café.
They feast on pasta and this steak dish Mino could swear is better than most steaks he orders from restaurants in Seoul and they continue talking (it seems they never really run out of things to talk about). Until it’s time for dessert and Seungyoon wordlessly fetches a small cake from the kitchen fridge. He sets it down on the table, Mino puzzled when Seungyoon retrieves a lighter from his pocket to light the lone candle in the center.
“What’s this?”
“I also have a secret,” Seungyoon tells him, settling back on his seat. Mino squirms a little at the mention of secret but Seungyoon’s smile puts him back at ease. “Today is my birthday.”
“What?” Mino’s eyes widen. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know, I thought it might be too much to… ask you to celebrate it with me and all,” Seungyoon stammers, and Mino sees what looks to be self-consciousness in the other man’s features and it’s unusual, really, because Seungyoon is always all warm smiles and effortless confidence. “It’s just another day, really. No big deal.”
Mino stares at him dumbfounded, recalling how Seungyoon told him his birthday was early in the year. “You gave me free lessons, you cooked the meal, and I didn’t even get you anything.”
“It’s fine,” Seungyoon says, avoiding Mino’s eyes still. “When I came back from Italy, my friends and I have become a little distant. They’re busy with work, their families and all, I couldn’t bother them for something as silly. You’re doing me a favor by being here.”
“Your birthday isn’t silly.”
Seungyoon doesn’t respond and simply flashes him a smile before blowing out the candle, not even giving Mino a chance to sing him the birthday song, or ask him to make a wish. It’s all hurried and overwrought, like Seungyoon is chasing something, and it leaves Mino wondering what the other man isn’t telling him.
“Happy birthday,” Mino greets instead, and means it.
“I’ve been thinking about what you told me the other day,” Seungyoon starts to say, tentative. Suddenly it makes sense why the mood has changed.
Mino feels something in his stomach drop. He wondered when Seungyoon was going to bring it up, if he even will or if he decided it was a conversation that’s better left unfinished. Seeing the uncertainty in Seungyoon’s face, Mino decides maybe it would have been better that way.
“About what you felt when you…” Seungyoon trails off.
“When I touched my soulmate,” Mino supplies for him. Seungyoon nods. “What about it?”
“It sounds a lot like being in love.”
Mino searches Seungyoon for any indication that he’s joking but when his face remains somber, Mino finds himself shaking his head. “It’s not,” he counters, a feeling of defensiveness welling from inside, like generations of family pride rests on this one explanation. He didn’t really expect Seungyoon to understand, but- “It’s different.”
“Is it?” Seungyoon quirks a brow. “Have you tried? Loving someone, I mean.”
Mino is caught off-guard by the question and he’s unable to speak, like a rock is lodged in his throat.
The prospect of love has never interested him - not in the way it should other people. His life is a string of tales that convince him there’s someone waiting for him, someone born for him, whose soul is intertwined with his, perhaps, beyond this lifetime.
And love - falling in love with people that might not be that someone has never crossed Mino’s mind, because what’s the point?
“I have,” Seungyoon declares, as if it were the easiest confession in the world. “The hitched breaths when the person is close to touch, the trembling when you actually do, the heat that washes over you like a wave when you kiss,” he pauses, as though searching for something in Mino’s eyes. “The yearning that’s more than simply missing someone. It’s like a piece of you is lost. The need that manifests itself in many ways like,” Seungyoon shrugs, “dreams.”
Mino keeps silent as Seungyoon fumbles with the fork in his hand, like he’s contemplating, weighing whether to continue or to stop speaking. Mino can’t take his eyes off him, off the forlorn look that has never appeared on his face until now. Seungyoon seemed like he doesn’t run out of energy, someone who never has a reason not to smile, but there’s a brokenness there, a vulnerability Mino is seeing for the first time.
“I thought Taehyun was my soulmate,” Seungyoon speaks after what seems like forever and Mino’s heart constricts inexplicably. “We grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same high school, same university, different majors. He’s a painter,” Seungyoon adds, a small smile of nostalgia on his lips. “I would have gone mad in college with all the rigid business courses if it weren’t for him. I lived vicariously through his art, you see. Watching the person I love carry out his passion, somehow, it was enough.”
“What happened?” Mino asks, but a part of him wishes he hadn’t. He dreads the answer.
“It didn’t work out,” Seungyoon answers in a heartbeat, the words hollow as if they’ve been drained, repeated again and again until it didn’t hurt anymore. “He loved his art, more than he loved me. He decided to study abroad, and he didn’t see me in his future anymore. I was shattered,” he adds, almost a whisper.
When he speaks again, his voice is resolute. “But I guess that’s what happens when your whole life revolves around someone. I thought I couldn’t breathe without Taehyun. It turns out, I was suffocating myself by closing the doors to all the possibilities because I thought Taehyun was the one.”
Mino swallows the lump in his throat, along with words of comfort. Seungyoon isn’t telling him this to find solace in his company, rather, to send a message to Mino. Clear as day.
“That’s when I decided to broaden my world. Travel. Find myself without him. Maybe if I had the ability you have, I would have saved myself the heartache. But would I want it?” Seungyoon meets Mino’s eyes, and Mino realizes he’s holding his breath. “No. I wouldn’t trade anything for the memories I have with Taehyun. He was my soulmate at one point, because I loved him.”
Mino stares at his feet as he walks to the café door, his footsteps heavy, his chest heavier. There are a million things running through his mind, all of which involve Seungyoon, all of which shouldn’t involve Seungyoon. He snaps out of his reverie when the other man clears his throat and Mino turns around abruptly their bodies nearly collide. But Seungyoon steps back, hands firmly clasped at his sides.
Mino lifts his gaze at Seungyoon, no longer a stranger. A confidante, perhaps. But still a vague presence all the same. “Aren’t you… curious?”
Seungyoon bites down on his lower lip, brows creased. “Curious about what?”
“About what happens when I touch you.”
Seungyoon doesn’t answer right away, and when he does, he sighs. “I am. I’m so curious it’s fucking killing me.”
“So why are you going out of your way not to touch me?”
“Because.” Suddenly, Seungyoon looks so small. “I’m scared of what will happen when you touch me and you realize I’m not who you’re looking for.”
Mino feels a pang in his chest. The next words to come out of his mouth has him regretting for the next few nights, hoping he can take them back.
“I’m sorry.”
* * *
Mino doesn’t come back to the café.
The roar of the truck blears in his ears as he lifts the coffee to his mouth, grimacing at the aftertaste, watching the workers unload some of the materials from the vehicle onto the rock hard ground. It’s hard to start construction in winter, but the cold is dying down, and they hope to finish Chef Park’s restaurant by early spring.
“Don’t you think he looks better when he’s at work like this?” Seunghoon says next to him in a hushed tone, discreetly tilting his head to the direction of Kim Jinwoo who’s barking instructions at his men.
“I really don’t know,” Mino huffs, crumpling the styrofoam cup in his hand. “It never crossed my mind because I was busy actually doing work with him instead of checking him out.”
“That’s what makes us successful partners. We divide tasks. You work, while I-“ he stops when he sees Jinwoo approach them and puts on his widest smile. Mino is invisible again. “How does it feel to be working on what’s going to be the most aesthetically pleasing restaurant you’ll ever have the honor of building?”
“I’ll tell you when I start working on the project with Architect Pyo,” Jinwoo snipes.
Mino flinches when Seunghoon starts laughing aloud, falling in step beside Jinwoo as the older man surveys the area, all while having to endure Seunghoon telling him about that time he beat Jihoon at a design competition in college.
His best friend can be such an idiot, but he wishes him well, really.
Work on the restaurant means reporting at the construction site for the next two weeks to make sure all design requirements are met before they can leave the rest to Jinwoo. It’s an hour drive from Mino’s apartment and naturally, no time for casual conversations over beautiful lattes.
Mino misses it. But maybe this is for the best.
The truth is, he could have touched Seungyoon the first time they met. The second time. The third. Sometime ago when Seungyoon’s smiles hadn’t meant much more, when he hadn’t grown fond of their conversations just yet. Way before he found out how amazing he is, how earnest.
But something had always stopped Mino.
Perhaps it’s because he knew deep down that Seungyoon isn’t it. There was no jolt. No bells. No grand reveal that promised anything other than a man with a handsome face, a breathtaking smile, and delicious coffee.
Mino only wanted a reason to stick around, even if it meant delaying the inevitable. But fate catches up sooner than later, broken hearts be damned.
* * *
Today, Mino wakes up with no headache. No recollections of the faceless man with slender yet strong arms. No yearning, no lingering ripples in his skin.
He wakes up from a dreamless sleep, the most rested he’s ever been in more than a month - and yet he feels emptier than most days. The first thought on his mind is what Seungyoon’s latte could have looked like yesterday, if he had made the stop on the way home. It’s been two weeks.
He thinks of Seungyoon with a prickle at the base of his throat, or maybe lower, somewhere closer to the heart.
And suddenly he’s skittish and exhilarated and he wants. As though he’s never wanted anyone else.
* * *
It takes Mino twice as long to get to the café because of the heavy snowfall - the last for this winter, according to the early morning news. He chuckles at the thought that it could be a sign, but he discovers he doesn’t really care. He could be turning his back on hundreds of years of family tradition but surely he isn’t the first one to go rogue?
He pushes the door open, bringing with him a gush of cold wind and a wisp of hope. The chime of the overhead bell rings in the empty café, much like the first time he met Seungyoon, who, at that moment, materializes from under the bar. Mino watches, with amusement, how Seungyoon’s eyes widen as he dabs his hands on a towel and moves hesitantly, closer, until he’s facing Mino.
“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Seungyoon says, a speck of hurt in his brown eyes despite the smile he wears. “I thought… you found him.”
“I’m not sure,” Mino says, folding his arms. “Were you in Myeongdong around five o’clock PM, Christmas Eve?”
Seungyoon frowns in confusion at first, then his brows smooth in understanding. “I went there to buy apples. It was in the afternoon, but I’m not sure what time.”
“Hmm,” Mino hums, drumming his fingers on his chin. “I wish there was a way for me to find out if you’re the one.”
Panic flashes in Seungyoon’s eyes, but before he could take a step back, Mino reaches out and grabs his hand.
Seungyoon’s fingers are cold against his skin, but a warmth spreads up his arm from where their hands connect. Mino’s stomach is a mess of butterflies and backflips when Seungyoon squeezes just a little, his heart thunders in his chest when Seungyoon offers him a smile.
“Well?” Seungyoon asks, his tone guarded, if not a little hopeful. “Am I your soulmate?”
Mino answers him the only way he could: he takes one step closer, his hand sliding up Seungyoon’s arm, settling against the underside of his jaw. Mino’s thumb slides over Seungyoon’s cheek while he takes in all of Seungyoon’s features before he leans in to kiss him. Slowly, deeply. Mino melts despite the cold. Seungyoon tastes, in every sense, like his morning latte.
Maybe Seungyoon is the one destined for him. Or maybe Mino is simply in love.
Either way, Mino thinks he can spend the rest of his life drinking this man’s coffee, and collecting all the smiles as he could - between conversations, over as many winters, for an entire lifetime.
And that makes Seungyoon his soulmate by choice. To Mino, that’s enough.
* * *
“Don’t be nervous,” Seungyoon tells him, tugging at the collar of Mino’s coat and dusting his shoulders. Mino thinks Seungyoon shouldn’t really be saying this, not when he’s the one whose hands are trembling. Mino allows his husband to keep fumbling with his hair and his clothes for a minute more before he finally pulls his arms to clamp Seungyoon’s tense hands down.
“Don’t be nervous,” he echoes Seungyoon’s advice, and Seungyoon looks like he’s about to protest, but he sighs and closes his eyes.
“Do you think she will like us?” Seungyoon asks, leaning into Mino for support. “What if she doesn’t like us?”
“She will,” Mino whispers into Seungyoon’s temple as he snakes an arm around his waist. Mino wishes he could be more convincing, but he’s probably just as nervous as Seungyoon, only better at hiding it.
The wait took nearly six months - six months of counseling, processing documents, having to deal with frustrating government workers. It’s harder for couples such as themselves, but not entirely impossible. They had almost given up, but it was the little girl’s photo that had kept them going.
Today they were going to meet her for the first time.
“Mino.”
He’s pinching the bridge of his nose with eyes closed when Seungyoon’s voice rouses him. He promptly looks up when the orphanage worker emerges from the door. Mino’s chest is a roaring mess, that is, until he looks down at the small bundle beside her, gripping the woman’s hand. He takes a sharp breath and everything else stills.
All he sees are soft black locks frame a small face, almond-shaped eyes, a button nose, dainty lips. Mino has never seen a more beautiful girl in his life.
It’s Seungyoon who walks closer, tugging Mino’s hand and pulling him to come to her. In that short walk, Mino tries to remember why he insisted on the girl when they were reading the children’s profiles, exactly what he felt when he saw her face on the photo.
This little girl had been abandoned as a baby three years ago. On Christmas Eve.
The next thing Mino knows, he’s crouched down in front of the girl and it’s hard to breathe. Seungyoon is right beside him, holding onto his arm, and he can almost hear Seungyoon’s heartbeats with his own.
“Hi,” Mino says. And slowly, he holds out a hand. The little girl doesn’t look terrified, only curious.
She takes a small step and shyly places her tiny hand over Mino’s palm.
And it’s the stirring tingle that engulfs his hand, crawls all the way up his arm and settles around his neck, all from a gentle brush of little fingers that makes Mino cry.
He gently pulls the little girl to him, enclosing her in a tearful embrace. “I’m going to love you until the day I die,” he whispers. Mino feels another set of arms that settle around him and through his tears, sees Seungyoon, the love of his life whose smile is more magnificent with tears streaming down his cheeks.
“I love you,” Mino utters and Seungyoon says it back, giving him a peck on the cheek, and another one on top of their daughter’s head.
* * *
She grows up with stories of fated meetings and entwined paths.
She grows up knowing of love, above all.